


underneath the wide and starry sky

by alljuststars (allthelight)



Category: Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Future Fic, Post-Canon, light angst I suppose but not really, my babies are all grown up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthelight/pseuds/alljuststars
Summary: '“That’s the problem with modern buildings,” a voice says from behind her. “Distinct lack of secret passageways to hide in.”She smiles without meaning to, an involuntary turning up of the lips that she’s never quite lost the habit of whenever he appears. “Tell me about it. I had to make do with the next best thing.” She turns back to look at the man whose face is as familiar to her as her own. “Sorry if I scared you.”“I knew where you were, Cam,” he says quietly, easing himself down next to her. “I always know where you are.”She raises one eyebrow, a skill perfected from her mom, and Zach just grins, points to himself and says, “Spy.”'It's near the anniversary of her dad's disappearance, and Cammie just needs a hug. Future fic.
Relationships: Zachary Goode/Cameron Morgan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	underneath the wide and starry sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I know it seems angsty but it's really not. It's just a nice soft moment underneath the stars with these two beans who deserve A Rest. 
> 
> I honestly never thought I'd write a Zach/Cammie fic, so I do apologise if it's a little off. I hope you manage to enjoy it all the same :)
> 
> Big thanks to sodal45 for the inspiration!

The night is quiet and cool and washes over Cammie like a wave. There’s a light breeze that whispers around her and she’d quite like to fall back into it, lie suspended in the air for a moment and let the world take her weight for once. It’s a desire she won’t follow through with, because she sits on the roof and would probably crack her head on the tiles behind her. She’s already had enough head trauma to last a lifetime.

It’s quite late. She hadn’t bothered to look at the clock as she rolled out of bed, nor has she bothered to glance at her watch. Her internal clock is still protesting at being out here and not warmly snuggled in a duvet, but the rest of her feels oddly calm, and so she ignores it. Even the manic swirling of her mind has been reduced to a lazy spin out here.

“That’s the problem with modern buildings,” a voice says from behind her. “Distinct lack of secret passageways to hide in.”

She smiles without meaning to, an involuntary turning up of the lips that she’s never quite lost the habit of whenever he appears. “Tell me about it. I had to make do with the next best thing.” She turns back to look at the man whose face is as familiar to her as her own. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“I knew where you were, Cam,” he says quietly, easing himself down next to her. “I always know where you are.”

She raises one eyebrow, a skill perfected from her mom, and Zach just grins, points to himself and says, “Spy.”

They don’t officially live together, not yet. It’s just her name on the lease for this apartment. Some of her friends from university had asked her to get a place with them when they graduated, but she had to decline. It’s hard to explain why you're coming home at three in the morning after your supposed work trip with your arm in a sling and a parachute over your shoulder. And there’s no need to even get started on all of the equipment that would be so hard to hide in an apartment shared with two other girls. Not for the first time, Cammie misses sharing with spies.

In the early days after Gallagher graduation, she and Zach went on missions together, and many times they still do, but it’s different now. They have different skills, and their talents are often required in different places at different times. She misses him when he’s gone, but it’s nice having a chance to miss him, to know that this is normal, or as normal as an operative’s life is ever going to get. If he’s not glued to her side then there’s nobody after her. It’s quite telling how, at twenty-two years old, she considers this to be quite the feat.

“You just got back,” she says. “You should be sleeping.”

“And I was.” Zach nods. “And then I woke up and you weren’t there. Now I’m exactly where I should be.”

Cammie could get irritated – they are capable of being more than five feet from each other – but he’s right. She doesn’t want to be alone, not really, but Zach’s been gone for two weeks and he’s thin and he needed to sleep and she didn’t want to ask for help when she doesn’t know what he could do. It’s not like this is something he can solve.

But it turns out he can, just a little bit.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, trying half-heartedly one last time. “You can go back to bed and sleep.”

Zach shakes his head, an obstinate look on his face. “I’m not going back to bed, Gallagher girl. We can talk or not, either way is fine, but I’m not going.”

The nickname brings tears to her eyes, and she shifts her gaze to her feet, hoping he won’t see. “I haven’t been a Gallagher girl in a long time.”

“Is that the problem?”

She shrugs. “A bit, but not really.”

It was hard in the beginning without them, and even now, four years later, she still gets disoriented when she comes out the shower and doesn’t find Liz sitting on the bed with a thousand flashcards in front of her, or when she goes for a run and Bex isn’t beside her, telling her how her posture should be, or when she puts on eyeliner for an undercover and Macy isn’t there to correct the wing position. Her best-friends, her _sisters,_ are all fine and having great careers, and they chat and see each other when they can, but it’s not how it was. Six years of her life were spent in that mansion, the hardest years of her life were with her friends. She’d gone alone before, but they were always there to come back to. Now there’s nowhere to come back to, and she likes being a grown-up and she likes being an actual operative, but there’s a part of her that knows nowhere will ever fully feel like home.

Zach isn’t going to bed until she does, but she can’t until her head stops spinning, and the only way to stop that is to let it all out.

“My dad went missing when I was twelve,” she says quietly, still looking at her feet. The roof tiles are cold against her bare feet, but she likes the sensation. It grounds her, in a way, and stops her floating off inside her own head.

“I know.” It’s just an affirmation. There’s nothing in it. But she wishes he hadn’t said it.

She continues as though she hadn’t heard. “We don’t know when he actually died. I mean we can guess, and they got it down to this two-week time period or something, but we don’t really know. We don’t even properly know when he went missing. We’ve never had a date to put on the headstone or anything like that.” She takes a deep breath. “But Mom and I, we’ll we’ve always had the date he went away.”

It’s stuck so vividly in her brain, that she’s sure no amount of mind tricks would be able to dislodge it. She’d been dreaming when her mom had woken her up, _come and say goodbye to Dad, Cam,_ but it was one of those that vanished as soon as your eyes snapped open, and you were stuck feeling for something that didn’t exist anymore. As much as you tried, no matter what you did, it didn’t work. You could reach all you wanted, and still it wouldn’t come back to you.

She’d followed her mother to the front door, where her father had stood with his bag at his feet, looking for all the world like a regular dad who was just heading to the office. The fact that it was four in the morning didn’t seem to bother him the way it had bothered her mom, who had just gotten back from Malaysia and looked exhausted and also sad, as though there was nothing more she wanted than for her husband to stay.

He’d hugged her mom first, before kissing her, then whispering something in her ear that Cammie was too short to hear. Her mom had laughed and quickly swiped under her eyes before nodding. Then her father hugged her, and it was so tight that she almost told him she couldn’t breathe. But she didn’t, and instead, she’d nodded as her father whispered in her ear, _“I love you, Cam. I love you so much.”_ And she’d said in a groggy voice that she loved him too. She’d wanted to ask him how long he’d be gone, but she didn’t because she knew he couldn’t answer. She’d wanted to tell him she’d miss him, but she couldn’t, because then his eyes would get teary and she couldn’t stand to see her father cry.

He’d let her go and then stage-whispered so her mom would hear, _“I’ve taken some of your leftover candyfloss, kiddo. But not the secret stash Mom doesn’t know about so don’t worry.”_

Then he’d winked and ruffled her hair, her mom had laughed, and the three of them had been in the middle of their last joke as a family and nobody had known it. He’d opened the door and shouldered his bag. Her mom had pulled her close, her arm around Cammie’s shoulder, pressing tightly.

 _“My girls,”_ her father had said, nodding as if to say that things were right the way they should be. _“Take care of each other.”_ He’d waved, once, and then he’d walked away and they both watched him until he became a silhouette against the sunrise, until he was gone.

“I didn’t know,” Cammie whispers now. “He knew something was different about that one. My mom even knew. But I didn’t suspect a thing and I should have. I was about to be a Gallagher girl. I’d been cracking codes since I was four. I should have known.” She laughs a teary laugh. “He never apologised for taking my candy before.”

She expects Zach to move towards her, to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her to his own, but he knows her too well for that. Instead, he watches her silently as she looks from her feet to the full moon in the sky, the very same one she used to look at and hope that, somewhere, her father was looking at it, too.

‘Is it the anniversary tomorrow?” He asks, his voice impossibly soft, as if by saying the words he’s afraid she’ll break. He should know by now that it takes a lot more than that to break Cammie Morgan.

She shakes her head. “It’s in a couple of days. I want to go see my mom for this one.”

“I’m sorry, Gallagher girl.”

Cammie looks at him curiously. “For what.”

Zach looks pained. “For not knowing.”

She wants to tell him that he doesn’t need to know everything about her, but he already kind of does. He knows her and sees her in a way very few people ever have. He’s known things about her before she even knew them herself. But it wasn’t up to him to try to figure out this one. No, this one was on her to tell him, but she could never bring herself to do it.

“I never told anyone. The anniversary was always in Summer and I was always at the ranch. Nobody ever knew.” She shrugs. “It really wasn’t a big deal.”

It was nice to have the day to herself, just sharing it with her grandma and grandpa. Grandma Morgan always gave her extra helpings and Grandpa Morgan always took her for a long drive. Her mom always called – no matter what she might have been doing she always called – and they talked for hours. She’d cry a little, she always did, and late at night she’d look at the moon and say, “I miss you, daddy,” before she went to sleep.

There was no act to perform. She didn’t have to pretend to be fine. It was just her and the two of the people in the world who could miss her father as much as she and her mother did.

“It’s ten years,” she says, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears begin as a prickle in the back of her throat. “This year, it’s ten years since he di-” but she can’t bring herself to say _died,_ even though she’s been saying it for years.

“Big anniversaries are hard,” Zach says, shifting closer to her. He sounds eerily like his father in his acknowledgement, and it reminds her of Rome, and it reminds her of _that day_ and she feels the tears might come sooner than she’d hoped.

“It’s not just that.” A shuddery breath and Cammie finds she can’t look at him and she has to look at the stars. “It’s ten years this year, and soon it’ll be twelve, and soon I’ll have been without my dad for as long as I had him.”

“Oh, Cam,” Zach exhales, and he shifts even closer, his hand begins to rub slow, comforting circles on her back. His tone, that soft, gentle tone, brings the tears, and she doesn’t even try to fight it.

“I know it’s stupid. I know this was always going to happen eventually but it just hurts more than I thought it would.” She swallows. “My mom and Joe and Abby and Townsend - they’re all great, and I’m so grateful for everything they’ve ever done for me, I really am. I just… I just miss my dad.”

This brings tears of the kind she’s not cried in years. She shakes and shivers and Zach finally can’t hold out any longer and brings her to him, pressing her face to his chest as he rests his chin on top of her head. His arms are firm around her, letting her know that he has her, that she’s safe, that she can just let it all out. And oh, she does. And it’s relief of the kind she’s never known, because she’s finally letting out all the worry and the feeling that, somewhere, she’s harboured deep inside ever since the day her mother told her that her dad was never coming home.

“It’s okay,” Zach whispers into her hair, his breath warming her scalp. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

It’s the words he whispers into the back of her neck after a nightmare, and the familiarity of them helps her to catch her breath and stem her tears. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles over and over. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Zach swipes his thumb under her eyes. “But you will be.”

Cammie nods mournfully, her face still safely pressed against his t-shirt. “I’m sorry for blubbering all over you,” she says, but by now it’s like apologising for the rain. There are some things that can’t be helped.

“You never have to apologise for that, Gallagher girl. Never.”

They have good times together now. They dance around her kitchen to cheesy songs (though only Zach cooks – there are some things the Morgan women _can’t_ do) and they go to movies and play I-Spy (which is infinitely more fun when playing with an actual spy) in the park. They go on missions and they see the world and they make each other laugh while doing it. Her life is good, she’s not denying it, but she also can’t help these moments of sadness that bubble up and threaten to overspill every now and again.

She lets herself sit there and be comforted by Zach, who still smells impossibly good even after barely three hours sleep. She can hear his heartbeat against her ear, and it sounds like home.

“You know you can always talk to me about this stuff, right?”

His voice is a surprise, and she looks up at him with a quizzical look on her face but he’s being serious. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Immediately she knows what he’s talking about, and she has to fight the urge to hide in his t-shirt again. “I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

He sighs. “You’re allowed to miss your dad. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Just like you don’t have to worry about me,” she shoots back, “but you do it anyway. I don’t mean to do it, I just… do it.”

Sometimes it feels selfish mourning her father so openly when Zach didn’t know who his was for eighteen years of his life, and is unlikely to ever have the kind of relationship she had with hers. It feels like rubbing it in his face.

“You don’t have to,” he tells her earnestly. “I might not get it really, I might be glad my mom is gone, but you can tell me this stuff, Cammie. You can tell me anything.”

She knows he means it, she’s known all along, but only when he calls her _Cammie_ does she understand just how deeply, just how desperately, he needs her to know it. He calls her _Gallagher girl_ or _Cam_ , but she can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times in six years he’s called her _Cammie_.

“I know,” she says, and presses herself closer against him, hoping that she knows just how much she means it. “I know.”

“I’ll come with you to see your mom.” His hand resumes a gentle circling on her back. “If you want me to.”

She barely has to think about it. “I’d like that.”

His half-smile melts her heart and she thinks, not for the first time, about how much she loves him.

“It’ll be good to see Joe again,” he muses. “See if married life is making the old man soft.”

“I doubt it. My mom’s not exactly soft herself,” Cammie laughs.

“Yeah, but you know he’s soft for her.” He gives her a funny look. “An effect that the Morgan women seem to have on all the men in their lives.”

She shakes her head, smiling at his ridiculous lines that always seem to come out of nowhere. “Don’t worry, big guy. Your reputation is safe.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining.” He kisses her gently. “I’m perfectly happy with the effect of this particular Morgan.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she says, but she says it with a smile and rests her head against him once more. It’s peaceful now, her head is no longer spinning, and with the calamity finally quelled, she’s better able to appreciate the cool, clean air of the night, the twinkling of the stars above, and the solid warmth of the man who has always had her back.

“This is no secret passageway,” Zach hums, “but it’s pretty good.”

“Yeah,” she agrees easily. “It’s a decent second best.”

She likes the open air and the breeze, but there will always be a part of her that will long for the musty tunnels and dusty alcoves of her home. No matter where she goes, no matter how long she lives, she will always be the type to slip into the walls and disappear.

Zach tries to stifle a yawn behind her and she turns around. “Come on, we can go back to bed now.”

“You sure?” He tries to stifle a yawn again. “I’m fine. We can stay out here as long as you want.”

She loves him endlessly, but her frustration at him sometimes nicely balances out her devotion. It’s good to stay level-headed. Rolling her eyes, she says, “I want to go to bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ugh, Zach. Come on. You’re exhausted and I’m feeling a lot better.” At his raised eyebrow she sighs and says, “I _promise._ ”

“Alright, alright. You’ve got that look like you’ll throw me off the roof if I don’t do what you say.”

The only person that would ever _actually_ throw Zachary Goode off a roof would be Bex (and possibly Macey if she was really angry enough) but he’s so tired he’s not thinking clearly, and Cammie kind of likes that tired Zach judges her strong enough to do that. “Don’t tempt me,” she smiles, and stands up, ready to clamber back through the window with him in tow.

“Hey.”

She turns back to him. “What?”

He reaches for her and pulls her close, cupping her face gently in his hands and pressing his forehead against her. “It could have been four years, fourteen years or forty years. It doesn’t matter. You’ll always be Gallagher girl to me.”

And then he kisses her. It’s feather-light, but her heart has gone through the wringer tonight and she has missed him so much. When stars appear in her eyes at the touch of his lips on hers the night sky is all around her, but the beauty of it, the _joy_ it brings, significantly pales in comparison. 


End file.
